


Far From Hope

by RainTeaandDragons



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Broken Castiel, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Guilt, Hatred, M/M, Post-Episode: s08e23 Sacrifice, Self Confidence Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, blame, human!Cas, self blame, self hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 09:16:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainTeaandDragons/pseuds/RainTeaandDragons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night the angels fell, Dean was left with a sick brother and a broken angel...<br/>So far from hope, will Dean have the energy to bring them both back to life, or will he loose forever one of the people he holds most dear?</p><p>*Warnings - Suicidal thoughts/attempts, may be triggering, will need tissues (most likely) - M for this reason* (better description inside)</p><p>*On Hiatus*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

"Cas! Cas buddy, where are you?" Dean called out to the empty, quiet night. The angels had long stopped falling, Dean had other things on his mind though. While Sammy was hurt, there was little that could stop Dean from helping him. The nearly unconscious Sam was lying in his arms. Dean had no idea what had happened, let alone how to fix him. "Cas! Please…Sam's hurt! I need your help." He waited, but there was no faint flutter of wings, no rough voice to offer reassurance. Nothing.

He was completely alone.

As carefully as possible Dean pulled the almost unconscious Sam into a standing position (or the best they could manage anyway, for the height difference made carrying him not an option) and helped him into the run down building. "Come on Sammy, we're nearly there," Dean muttered thankfully.

Once inside, with the door closed behind them, Dean found somewhere for Sam to lie down. With not many places to be found, Dean eventually chose the least hard looking bit of floor board, and helped Sam to sit down. Dean then shrugged off his jacket, unbeknownst to the unresponsive Sam, and folded it into a pillow. Dean hardly had time to catch Sam's head and rest it on the makeshift pillow, as he slumped to the side, eyes closed.

Satisfied that Sam was as comfy as possible, Dean stood, and without really thinking, he began to pace. Every few moments, sparing a worried glance towards his brother.

O O O

Dean had no idea how long it was before he heard someone pounding at the door. He stopped his pacing with a frown,  _who the hell would be knocking on that door at that time in the morning?_

Checking his hand gun was loaded, Dean walked slowly to the door, "who is it?" he asked hesitantly.

"It's me," came the familiarly deep voice, "it's me, Cas, let me in Dean."

"Cas?"

"Yes Dean?" Came the voice, sounding half broken, half annoyed.

Dean pulled open the door, "Where the hell have you been? I needed you Cas! And why did you use the door anyway? You could have 'angeled' yourself down right next to Sam's bed if you wanted to!" Dean paused, giving the angel a once over. If anything, the angel looked tired, worried, and stressed, definitely not his usual self. "Cas?" He asked again.

"I would have come Dean, when you called." Cas sighed, his eyes looked glassy as he spoke again, his voice deep and close to breaking, "I would have, if I could hear you. If I could have 'angeled' myself over here, I would have."

"Cas what do you mean?"

"I didn't know if you would still be here. I guessed." He stared back down the road, "I took a bus and walked."

"Cut the crap Cas!" Dean growled, "what is it!?"

"I've fallen Dean, fallen from grace." The man looked close to tears, "I'm human."

"Oh," was all Dean could manage. He stared at Cas, and now he knew why he looked so tired, so broken. Cas wasn't Cas anymore, angel Cas anyway. Dean, had no clue what to say, so he did the only thing he knew would tell Cas he was still accepted. That not all was lost.

He pulled him into a hug.


	2. Chapter 1

“Mr. Jones?” The nurse stared round the waiting room, searching for someone to respond. In the corner she spotted a short haired man in a thin dark jacket, and with piercing green eyes. He was leaning forward in his chair, another man in a trench coat and with dark hair was almost asleep on his shoulder. Though she couldn’t be sure, to the nurse the latter seemed to have been crying. At her words the man looked towards her voice, and pulling the other man with him stood up.

“That’s me!” Dean responded to the fake name he’d given the hospital, before worriedly hurrying over to the nurse, pulling the sleepy Castiel with him “where’s my brother?”

“Come with me,” she responded, her thick accent filling the room, “the doctor has a few things he needs to say to you.”

Dean followed the woman out of the waiting room and into a clean, white walled corridor, Cas tagged along behind, pulling his trench coat tighter around his shoulders. To anyone else it would have looked like he was cold, but in truth, that coat was a small comfort to him in the unfamiliarity of his now completely human body. Dean kept his eyes on the tightly wound bun of brown hair on the back of the nurses head, picking up the details of the lighter streaks, anything to keep his mind from the worry he felt for his two friends.

“You’re brother is in here Mr. Jones, just press the buzzer if you need anything.” She pushed open the door of a small room with white painted walls and an all too fresh smell, of washing powder and cleaning sprays.

Dean stepped through the doorway, his eyes instantly drawn to Sam’s still body. A drip was attached to his muscled arm, and he had a tube attached to his nose to help him breathe. He was pale, too pale, with cracked lips and eyes lined with shadows. Though he had brought his brother in and seen him then, Dean couldn’t stop the strangled whisper that left his lips, “Sam…”

“You must be the brothers who brought him in? I’m Dr Ford.” The short, but seemingly strong man held out his hand for Dean to shake.

Dean shook it, “Brother.” He corrected, “Dean, Dean Jones, and this…” he grappled for the right name, “…this is Castiel Novak.”

“Good to meet you, though these are not the circumstances I would have liked to have done so.” He walked round to stand behind Sam’s bed, “you said that Sam had started to have breathing problems, so that’s why you brought him here. The lack of air means that his body had begun to shut down even before you got him here.”

“He…he’s what?” Dean growled impatiently, “he needs to be alright, he has to be…” Dean felt a hand on his shoulder, and though he knew Cas meant well, he couldn’t help think that his hand seemed to say ‘I’m here for you Dean if the worst happens’ _but it wouldn’t…would it?_

“Isn’t there something you can do?” Cas spoke up, his voice low and croaky, flitting a worried glance to Dean.

“We have put him under an induced coma, so to slow the process, and meanwhile we are trying to discover what brought on the attack,” Dr Ford replied steadily. “However until then, all we can do is wait and keep monitoring his process.”

“How long?” Dean’s voice rose, “How long will we have to wait?”

“We cannot know; it could be as little as a week or over a month.”

“He better be alright. I need him to be alright.” Dean’s eyes flashed as he shrugged of Cas’ hand, “he’s my little brother! I was meant to look after him! I’ve failed him, again…” At that, Dean turned and strode from the room.

“Dean!” Cas called after him, he turned to the doctor, “I’m sorry about this…”

“He isn’t the only one.” he replied, a sympathetic frown creasing his eyebrows.

Cas nodded, before turning and following his friend down the corridor. Not caring for where they were he yelled again, “DEAN!” It wasn’t until Cas was outside the hospital that he saw Dean striding towards the sleek black Impala yelling:

“YOU SON OF A BITCH! Whatever you have done to Sammy I will make sure you regret it!”

Cas only just managed to get into the front seat of the car and shut the door, before Dean hit the accelerator and they sped through the car park and into the main road. Though Cas had heard the yell, little did he know that Dean was really shouting at himself, as Dean thought it was his fault that Sammy was in a coma. It wasn’t until Dean had driven them off the main road and had picked up his speed going onto a road in the middle of a thick forest that he realized how fast they were going.

“Dean! You need to slow down,” his voice cut through the silence.

“Why?” Came the stubborn response.

“You will crash if you don’t. You’re caught up in the stress and emotion of what’s happened to Sam. I don’t know the last time you slept.” he paused, “Dean stop!”

Something in Cas’ voice seemed to get through to his raging mind. Dean slammed on the brakes, pulling into a stopping bay on the side of the road. “Happy now?” He snapped.

“Not yet.”

“I won’t be able to sleep.”

“Try.”

“Fine!”

Cas watched as Dean pushed open the door and shut it with a slam, the sound echoing down the empty road. He shrugged off his jacket, and folding it into a pillow he got into the backseat of the car, stretched out and with his back to him, leant against the window.

Cas let out a sigh, he knew sleep for him wouldn’t come for a very long time. _How do you even sleep?_ Similar questions filled his mind as he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the itching pain that encased his upper back and shoulders. The place his wings had once been.


End file.
